Altogether
by haveyounomercy
Summary: Being near Mizuki was one thing. Having to deal with him was simply a different thing altogether. MizukixOC, one-shot.


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A/N Written for

**doroniasobi****, hope you aren't too shocked/horrified. I left out a **_**tiny**_** little detail. Miniscule, really.**

**Yes ladies and gentlemen, this OC is male, and hopefully not a Gary Stu. It seems that I just can't think of Mizuki as anything other than a little gay boy. Enjoy~**

**Disclaimer: Let's be reasonable now, shall we?**

* * *

Being shaken out of your seemingly routine life was one thing.

But being shaken out of your life by a handsome (albeit creepy) is another thing entirely.

* * *

I never thought much about my job. It was just at a simple department store part-time shift, folding and re-folding clothes as I watched old ladies try on hideous outfits.

That is, until _he_ came.

The first thing I noticed was that he was a guy. Almost no teenage guys came to the store. Almost no guys came to our store. We mainly sold girly coloured clothes, and slightly flashy ones at that.

The second thing I noticed was that he was wearing purple. For the love of God, he looked like a walking freak show. No decent teenage dude would walk around in purple. Maybe it was a dare.

But the third thing I noticed totally hit me. It was his hair. It was gorgeous.

Being the son of a family that owned a salon, I saw many different types of hair. Stiff ones, oily ones, curly ones, almost everything.

But I had never seen that guy's kind of hair before. The curls bounced, the colour shined, everything seemed to look perfect. I could tell from a distance that the texture was soft and natural in every way.

My fingers itched to style his hair, to wash it, to treat it like it deserved to.

"Excuse me?" A hand waved in front of my face.

I jumped back, my own straight black bangs falling into my face. Brushing them aside, I looked at his face more clearly.

"What?" I asked dumbly.

"Can you get me that?" He pointed at the shirts hanging on display above the shelves.

"Sure." I responded gruffly. Being taller than most, it seemed like I was always being asked to get things. As I reached up and stretched, I looked back, and he was doing something weird with his hand on his face.

I felt like he was checking out my ass.

Uneasily, I took down the blue sweater and handed it to him.

"This is blue." Was his disgusted response.

"…Yes." I said slowly.

"I want that one." He points at a tight light purple turtleneck decorated with pink sparkles.

Speechless, I just put the blue sweater back and handed the hideous thing to him with a shell-shocked look.

He turned around quickly, hitting me in the face with the shirt. "Where are the dressing rooms?" He asked rudely.

"Over there, under the sign that says 'Exit'." I rolled my eyes as he made a rather unpleasant noise. "There." I pointed at a small row of stalls.

"How dinky." He said as he marched into one.

I went back to folding clothes, and looked around. The old lady managing the cashier had taken a break, and the shop was void of any customers. I was about to fall asleep when I heard the obnoxious voice that just wouldn't leave me alone.

"Nfu. I look good." I turned around slowly, bracing myself.

I blinked. Several times.

"Well?" He looked expectantly at me, a little annoyed that I hadn't answered yet.

Why did someone like him have to have such beautiful hair? He didn't deserve it.

"It makes your… arms look thin." I said truthfully, the only relatively good thing about the shirt.

"It does, doesn't it?" He looked into the mirror appreciatively. "But that is to be expected of a shirt this gorgeous."

"Yes. Of course." I rolled my eyes again. "Now will you be buying that?" I asked once he changed out of it.

"Nfu. Unfortunately not. If you could put this on hold for me, it would be great though. I'll be back tomorrow. After all, this is a celebratory gift to me once I win everything..." He twirled his hair.

"Sure." I restrained myself from saying that no one would even think about touching that monstrous… thing.

"See you, Kai-kun." He smirked before dumping the shirt in my arms and leaving the store.

Shivers went up my spine as I ripped off my name tag. I didn't need more creepy people calling me by my first name.

Though, for some reason, I found my eyes lingering on the retreating back of a certain curly-haired creep.

* * *

"Go Harujo Gakuen." I yawn, lifting my fist in the air with a bored air.

"Matsui-senpai, please cheer with a little more enthusiasm…" Jun, a second-year, protested.

"I don't even want to be here. Besides, I doubt we're going to get any higher in the tournament." I grunted. Tennis was really boring.

"But you have to be part of the school spirit!" Jun looked like he was going to cry.

"Why don't you-" I stopped as the other team flounced onto the court. My arms were covered in Goosebumps as I stared, horrified, at the familiar crop of curly black hair.

"You know what, I'm going to go now." I rose from my seat, ignoring Jun's pathetic cries, and hurried off the stands. There was something about that guy, something that just freaked me out to no end. Maybe it was the fact he could proudly wear such blatantly revolting and ambiguously gay clothing.

I was strolling around the courts when I heard intensely loud cheering. I stopped to watch the match.

Looking at the scoreboard, my eyes bulged. This team, Seishun Gakuen, is good. Even for someone who didn't know tennis like me knew that.

"Nfu." I jumped at the sound behind me, and whirled around with wide eyes.

Thankfully, he was talking to someone else wearing a uniform that I didn't recognise.

Stealthily, I escaped and ran back to the stands where I gathered my things and went home to calm down.

* * *

"Kai-kun." I dropped all the clothes I had been carrying on the floor at the sound of the voice. Gulping, I bent down and picked everything up, both dreading and being happy that the old cashier lady was gone.

"Yes?" I replied, looking around at last. He looked different than when I saw him in the morning. His hair was limp, and his smirk had lost several degrees of cockiness.

"I'd like to purchase that shirt now." He snapped. I frowned.

"What's got you all grumpy?" I then remembered what had been going on earlier. Taking a guess, I asked, "Lost to Seishun Gakuen?"

Seeing his instant reaction at the words, I almost grinned.

"Shut up." He stomped over to the cashier and tapped his fingers on the counter impatiently.

What a little diva. I rolled my eyes (I seemed to be doing that a lot whenever he was around). Pushing a few buttons, the cashier made a _ding_ before everything went dark.

"It's dark." He whined.

"The power's out." I said as I looked at the other dark shops across from us.

"Well, do something about it!" He ordered.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, resting my elbows on the counter.

"Turn the power back on, of course!" He said curtly.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" I sighed.

"How should I know?" He sighed as well.

We stood in silence for a while before I broke it, satisfying my curiosity.

"Which salon do you go to?" I blurted out.

"Ginku." He replied. "Why?"

"Ginku?" I made a face. "The products are horrible, and the quality of the hairdressers are highly overrated! How do you keep your hair like that?"

"Oh yeah? And what salon do you think is good then, Kai-kun?" He raised an eyebrow, ignoring my question.

Shivering slightly at being called 'Kai-kun', I answer, "Matsui Salon."

"Matsui? Isn't that your last name?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Yeah. My family owns a salon. And it's way better than Ginku." I reply.

"Self-advertising now, are we Kai-kun? Nfu." He smirked.

"Can you please stop calling me that?" I finally said, exasperated.

"Why, Kai-kun?" He turned back into the obnoxious creep I met yesterday.

"Because it's creepy!" I splutter. "Plus… I don't know your name!" I say for lack of a better explanation.

"Mizuki Hajime." Mizuki grinned. "And it's not my fault that you were wearing a name tag, _Kai-kun_."

"Mizuki? What kind of name is that?" I scoffed.

"I don't know, but it's at least better than something horrifying, like… Matsui." Mizuki shuddered.

"So funny you are." I grumbled.

"I think I'm more beautiful than funny, though it is always nice to have some back-up." Mizuki twirled his hair in his fingers.

"Oh really," I start before the lights come back on. The cash register made a _ching_ and a receipt came out.

"Well, so nice chatting with you, Kai-kun, but I have business to do. Mainly, book an appointment for my hair." He sneered, snatched the receipt and the shirt, and left promptly, leaving me stunned and shocked.

Did he always just leave and appear out of nowhere?

* * *

"I'm home." I slip off my shoes and stretch as I walk over to the fridge. Looking around, I wasn't surprised that nobody was there. Our house was connected to our family salon, so most of the times everyone was over there.

After grabbing myself a drink and storing away my pay check, I picked up a broom and started to brush my way to the salon.

As I got closer, the familiar sounds of snipping and snippets of conversation were heard. I smiled, knowing that folding sweaters in a department store had nothing on sweeping hair in my family's salon.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I swept up some locks of black hair. They were undeniably familiar…

My stomach began to tighten as a feeling of dread covered me.

"Nfu. Kai-kun, how do you like my new haircut?" I knew it. I cursed life as I looked at Mizuki.

"It's… nice." I muttered. Really. How creepy could a guy get?

"Next time you better be cutting my hair." He smirked and walked away, causing me to stand there staring at where he had just been.

Yup, he did come and go as he pleased.

* * *

Over the next few months, I began to get used to Mizuki. His remarks and abrupt leavings no longer made me stare dumbly after him, but instead I would roll my eyes, something that had become sort of a habit when I was around him.

He would come to the store every Wednesday to look at any new shirts, and once a month he would get a trim.

Not to my surprise, his hair was just as soft as it looked.

Sometimes when I turned around, I expected him to be standing behind me, smirking, because he knew that he creeped me out when he did that.

I had just gotten accustomed to his presence in my life until the day I started High School.

"Nfu." My heart stopped as I slowly turned around. There, standing in the same uniform as I was, was Mizuki.

"Mizuki." I greeted him with more calmness then I felt.

"Kai-kun." He smirked.

"Why are you here?" I asked, then cringed at his roll of his eyes.

"Well, Kai-kun, after you complete Middle School, there is something that you advance to, called High School…" Mizuki started to explain.

"Yeah, yeah. Forget about it." I shut the door to my locker and stared at him. "Is there something you want?" I asked after he didn't leave.

"You're leaning on my locker." He said bluntly.

"You're kidding, right?" I laughed nervously. I saw enough of the creep/friend already. I didn't need to start every day seeing his face, no matter how good his hair looked.

"It says right here." Mizuki pointed at a piece of paper in his hand.

"Mizuki. This locker only has space for one person." I said slowly.

"Hm. Hurry on along to the office then, Kai-kun." He replied quickly.

"But I was here first." I said childishly.

"But I'm Mizuki Hajime." He raised an eyebrow.

"Fine." I give in. "I'll move my stuff later." I head towards the office to point out their mistake as Mizuki puts a proud look on his face.

When I come back, all my stuff has been put neatly down. On the floor. In a pile. I sighed.

Mizuki doesn't change for anyone.

* * *

Last week Mizuki kissed me.

And I liked it.

His lips had been soft, and as I had let a sigh escape my lips, I could feel them going up in a smirk. That wasn't too bad, though.

His hair, it felt different when I was lightly stroking the back of it with my hand than when I was washing it or cutting it.

At first, when we broke off, I had been slightly traumatized.

_I had just kissed Mizuki. I had just kissed Mizuki._

He had flicked my forehead and told me to stop being a drama queen. Then he asked if it felt good. When I mumbled a yes, he just raised his head cockily, and left with a smirk.

And that's when I remembered that we were just outside the salon.

"Honey, it's okay to be gay!" Was what my mom said.

"Your sister will take care of continuing our family line." My father had said as he checked out the newspaper.

"Can I help pick out your clothes for your first date?" My younger sister had clapped her hands together excitedly.

Not knowing what to do, I decided to let things go slowly and see how things worked out.

* * *

Being gay I was okay with. I didn't mind being gay, and I didn't have a reason to not be. It was just a small matter, a small thing.

But being gay with Mizuki was a total different thing altogether.

* * *

As I tug my suit on to go to the winter dance and fix my hair, I frown. I can already imagine my boyfriend's reaction.

"Nfu. What a cheap tuxedo."

But as I leave my house to go pick him up, I find that I don't really mind. When he says the same thing I thought he'd say, I simply shrug it off.

The last thing that comes to mind as we kiss is two little thoughts.

* * *

Being insulted was one thing.

But being insulted by Mizuki was something else altogether.


End file.
